The Immortal Sea
by Immortal x Snow
Summary: On her wedding day, a young bride carries the weight of the prayers of her people, only to find the answer is nothing like what the legends have always said. AU, one-shot. Entry for sakuuya's Fairytale Contest!


Entry for sakuuya's Fairytale Contest. Yes, this is rushed, and I fell prey to the word count. (According to MS Word, it's 3,992 words.)

"Sanna" is the Inuit name for Sedna, a mythological goddess of the sea. This isn't really a specific Inuit group depicted here... I kind of embellished and played around, so it's not based on anything particular. This _is_ fantasy, after all. Also, I left "Mew" as "Myuu" because I thought it looked more appropriate for the culture. Otherwise, no names are changed or anything weird like that. Sure, Ichigo calls Aoyama "Masaya" later in the series, but eh... I prefer Aoyama.

Do enjoy and review!

* * *

Since the beginning of time, there had never been a more glorious day.

The sun rose early, its bright rays illuminating the fresh snow. Icicles hanging from the roof of the little forlorn house twinkled like lost stars gathered in isolated portions of space. The frigid wind blew gently over the frozen fields, the breath of a god come to pay tribute to the morning. A lone tree towered near the house, its branches ornamented with bands of ice that sparkled as the tree hung over the roof, seeming to come perilously close to crushing the squalid pile of chipped wood and faded paint.

Ichigo peered outside, her breath turning to mist as she gasped and exhaled in wonder at the beautiful morning. Her bright red hair blew into her face; she pushed it back and excitedly twirled windswept locks in her bony fingers.

Today was the day—_her_ day.

She rushed back into her house and returned with freezing buckets to gather snow with. Sighing, she gingerly scooped up the cold powder, sorry to damage its immaculate appearance. The cold sent shivers up her spine, piercing her to the bone, but she didn't mind. Today was simply too wonderful to take notice of such things. Soon, she would be warm and happy, safe with her family and all her friends, who would come from every part of the land to be with her.

Ichigo hauled the buckets into the house, spilling snow all over the threshold. She shut the door behind her, careful to be quiet as her parents slept in the single bedroom at the back of the house. Setting the buckets in a corner for the snow to melt, she gazed longingly at the thick warm garment hanging on a nail by the door. She stroked the dark skirt made of animal hide, imagining it flowing around her legs as she walked. She nuzzled her cheek against the fur scarf and shawl, the white hairs tickling her face. It would keep her warm throughout the ceremony and make her a princess straight from a fantastic legend. Her feet would be exquisitely tiny in the moccasins, with their beaded decorations forming the sun and the moon and delicate stars all above… the sea.

She bowed suddenly, pressing her hands to her chest in fear. No one could be married by the sea without invoking Sanna, the great goddess of the world beneath the waves. Unless she wanted to be taken away and drowned in the icy water… she had to pray. She had to show her respect for the goddess who had created and ruled the animals whose flesh fed her family.

"Please watch over me, Sanna," Ichigo said. "Please bring my family more food, so they won't starve. Please take care of Aoyama, so he will be a wonderful husband. Please watch over me, so I will be a good bride and bring honor to my husband and raise a happy family."

The young girl rose, bowing her head a final time—it was time for her to get ready now.

* * *

"I can't believe it's finally my dear daughter's time!"

Ichigo smiled as her mother hugged her and placed the shark-tooth earrings in her ears—shark's teeth brought good luck to all young brides. She needed no luck, of course; she had all the fortune she could ever want. Her family loved her, and now she was going to marry a strong man who would love her and take care of her, even when she was old and ugly. What more could a young bride ask for?

"You know," her mother said as she began to braid Ichigo's hair, weaving small white ribbons into it skillfully as she spoke, "There will be so many people who are coming to your wedding. Aoyama has a large family. They say even his father has returned from his voyage in time. You are going to look so pretty for all of them!"

Ichigo touched her braids, admiring the silk ribbons.

"Do you think the whole village will come?" she asked.

"Of course! You know how important weddings are. Everyone will be there to celebrate with you today and see you off when you return with Aoyama to his land. Oh, but we will all miss you so much!"

"I'll be all right." Ichigo fingered the pendant hanging just below her collarbone. It was a polished blue shell as big as her palm and as bright as the sea on a clear day. She felt the smooth surface, touching the thick leather string that kept it around her neck. "I have Sanna's protection. The Myuu Aqua shell will keep me safe."

"We prayed special prayers to her last night to keep you safe and happy." Sakura began applying a fragrant powder to Ichigo's pale, hollow cheeks. "She will certainly be appeased. Maybe she will let you and Aoyama have plenty of food for the rest of the winter."

Ichigo's stomach growled. She knew the gnawing feeling of hunger deep within her stomach, begging for food through the long nights and dark days when her father and the other village hunters could find nothing to eat. No matter how much they prayed to Sanna and sacrificed to her, she would not be merciful. Now, perhaps, Sanna would accept this marriage and give up the animals she ruled for food.

"Do you think I'll be good enough for her?" Ichigo asked. "The sea is so pretty… I can't be beautiful enough for her."

"If you're good enough for Aoyama, you're good enough for anyone. Such a wonderful man. There!" Her mother tied the final tie of Ichigo's dress and stepped back, turning her daughter around to look at her. "You look so beautiful! Here, I have a glass for you to look at yourself."

Ichigo took the polished glass from her mother and stared at herself in it. Her eyes widened in delight. Her hair was carefully pulled back from her face and styled in two long, thin braids. Near the top of her head was a comb decorated with small jewels that looked just like the stars over the sea. Her eyelids were covered with a fine powder like that on her cheeks, making her eyes look like the deep brown of wet sand. Little rings made of shells similar to her pendant were on all of her fingers. Best of all was her dress: warm, thick, covered with little sparkling trinkets. Small shards of animal bone decorated the fringe dragging on the ground (the dress was a little large for her short, malnourished frame) like a royal train. The shawl wrapped around her shoulders and the scarf hung around her neck were the color of the morning snow, a pure, clean, innocent white.

She was a perfect bride.

"Oh, Mama, I'm so happy!" she said, dancing with joy. She couldn't wait for the ceremony later in the afternoon, couldn't keep still for the idea of being joined to her love forever. She felt the lapping waves of the sea envelop her—was that a female whisper she heard in her ear?

"You're lovely," Sakura said with a small smile, almost sad. She was going to lose her dear daughter in only a few hours; she had to treasure the little time they had remaining. "Come, let's go to the sea. Everyone will be there soon. We can't keep them waiting."

Ichigo took her mother's hand and walked through the small house to the door. She wouldn't have to live in this awful poverty any longer. She could go to a home with Aoyama where she would have a full stomach and beautiful children always tugging at her side, begging to be told another story of how wonderful her wedding day was. She would set them on her lap and tell them again and again, never leaving out a single detail. She quietly recited the story to herself, writing the day before it had ended, scripting every moment and promising herself everything would happen just as she had decided.

* * *

The atmosphere was lively as Ichigo laughed with her friends, showing them every bit of her beautiful dress and giggling at the people who came into the small seaside house. Once, a great family had lived here, but they had moved away several years ago. Now, the building was used for weddings and funerals, with a small shrine to Sanna at the center of the large room where men and women joined to create new life and others came to celebrate old lives. Each guest bowed to Ichigo, then entered the room and placed an offering before Sanna's shrine. The man coming in now held a small vase filled with beautiful stones gathered from the beach in the summer. He placed the colorful container before the shrine, bowing his head and whispering a few prayers for more food before his family starved.

"Is that a good omen?" Ichigo's friend Miwa asked, gesturing to a woman coming in with her dark hair hanging loosely past her waist, a sign of mourning. "Can you have a widow coming to your wedding? Your marriage will suffer!"

"You're silly," Ichigo said, waving to the woman, who turned her face away in contempt. "It doesn't mean anything. Miss Fujiwara isn't in mourning. Haven't you seen her before? She always looks like that. No one wants to tell her she shouldn't—she's too beautiful for anyone to criticize her."

"I suppose you're right—but you really can't say anything like that about _her_, can you?" Miwa pointed to a bubbly young girl with several children at her heels, all asking for something. She laughed, trying to hold all of their hands at once and smiling to anyone who walked past her. "She has too many brothers and sisters. And where are her parents? She shouldn't be here."

"You're being too superstitious," Ichigo said. "It's my wedding! Nothing can go wrong. You should go sit down now—we're about to start! I'm so excited!"

Purring with delight, Ichigo pushed her friends to the door and skipped back to the vestibule, quivering with anticipation. It was finally time. After years of waiting patiently and struggling to make time to visit Aoyama, she could finally say she was his wife. She could think of nothing that was nearly as exciting as a long life with him, always smiling and laughing with her beloved. She would take care of the house for him and make good food to keep them from starvation. She would have many children and teach them the myths of her culture, the legends of her land—and most importantly, the story of Sanna, the goddess who had made all of her dreams come true.

She looked up and saw Aoyama in his wedding garment: thick trousers made of the same hide as her dress and a white fur tunic to match her scarf and shawl. He wore a pendant like hers and fragments of white shells on the fringed sleeves of his tunic. His hair was clean and combed, shining with the fragrant oil all the men wore in their hair for special occasions. He took her small hand, pressing it in his strong, callused ones—the hands of a strong, promising young hunter.

"Ichigo," he said, smiling and kissing her hand, "you look so beautiful."

Ichigo blushed, her face turning a light pink under the powder caked on her face.

"Thank you, Aoyama," she said, turning her face away with embarrassment for a moment before lifting her gaze back to meet his. "I'm so happy."

"I love you," he said. "I can't wish for anything more than this."

She leaned against him, clutching his hands, as they entered the wedding room together.

* * *

Ichigo had never seen so many people in her life. There were young men and old men, children and mothers, couples and babies all together by the sea—all here for her on her wedding day! The thought of having so many people here to honor her was more than she could imagine. Reality had not disappointed her dreams this time: somehow, it had managed to surpass them. Of course, she had hoped there would be more food for her marriage feast—but that couldn't be helped. She was just a little too early. Soon, Sanna would release all the creatures in the sea for the hunters to kill and eat. Then, there would be plenty for all the other village weddings.

She was chatting with Miss Aizawa, the girl who had performed the ritual dance to Sanna at her wedding, when Aoyama walked up to her, his eyes solemn. Ichigo's heart skipped a beat. Her skin crawled. She felt the chill lingering in the air and heard the whisper in her ear again.

It was time.

She knew she didn't have to be afraid—her mother said she was beautiful, Aoyama said he loved her, the people said she was a wonderful bride—but she couldn't stop the nagging questions in the back of her mind. Was she good enough? Was she pleasing enough? Would she be as magnificent as the sea at night, as glorious as the underworld that lay invisible beneath the seemingly peaceful waves?

Ichigo tried to remain calm. Her moccasins became soaked as she waded through a large snowdrift, holding her shawl and scarf tight to keep warm. She knew she would not have them for long, and she winced at the thought of the freezing water piercing her skin like arrows. Several paces down the coast, a man was already cutting a hole in the ice for her.

"Everything will go well, Ichigo," Aoyama said, wrapping a comforting arm around her shaking shoulders. "You have the pendant. She will respect that. So many people have prayed for the famine to end… You are the land's only hope. You will take down our prayers with you. You—you are a symbol of our hope. You bear that upon you. And I know you will not disappoint us."

She looked into his eyes, wishing she could be as confident as he was. He knew and trusted his bride—could she trust herself? Could she really take the hopes of an entire people and bring them before a—a goddess? She couldn't _really_ be their only hope. She couldn't be like the beautiful, strong women in all the stories, who always did everything right and always had happy endings.

Still, here was Aoyama who believed in her, who loved her, who wanted her to come back safely. She wanted nothing more than to be his bride and share his life… Ichigo knew Aoyama would have gone in her place if he could, but that would be breaking tradition. There was nothing more sacred to her people than their customs, especially those regarding Sanna, upon whom they were so dependent. No, this was her fate. This alone was her burden to accept. She was the sacrificial maiden, sent down at her wedding like all the others, to ask Sanna for pardon on the people and to provide for their needs. If the goddess accepted her, the people would have an answer to their prayers, and her marriage would be eternally safe from harm because of her bravery. But if the goddess rejected her…

Ichigo walked out carefully onto the ice toward the gaping portal that led to Sanna's oceanic kingdom. She removed her shawl and scarf, handing them to the man who had broken through the ice for her. He left the ice and bowed, showing his reverence for the maiden who carried his fate on her shoulders. Usually, the brides who went down to Sanna only went for approval or answers to less important prayers. Ichigo had to take the survival of so many down into the depths of the water with her. She had to become the embodiment of tradition, even though she couldn't see herself as any sort of great heroine. Even though her mother had prepared her from birth for this moment—and her mother had survived the trial—she couldn't understand why this had to happen. She didn't want to think about how terrible Sanna would be. She would be an ugly, frightened creature in comparison. She couldn't be accepted.

Ichigo stood and faced the people standing on the shore watching her. Aoyama nearly had one foot on the ice, but he stood back, knowing only the bride was allowed to be there. She tried to smile at him—it might be the last time she would ever see her new husband. She wanted to treasure the moment forever, to linger on the border between the human and divine kingdoms, to be with her beloved people without having to worry about food or think about a vengeful goddess.

That was not her fate. She had a terrible destiny awaiting her beneath the ice. In the water was her life; under the waves was her death. The sky stretched endlessly above her, the stars twinkling like the ornaments on her dress. She feared that hole, that dark water, more than she feared anything. It was too much. She couldn't do it.

But she had to do it. If she wanted any chance of having a happy life with her husband, if she wanted her people to live… if _she_ wanted to live, she would go. She had no choice—there was no place for her to run, nothing for her to do except sink down, down, down…

She hesitantly dipped one foot in the water. Although she couldn't tell exactly how cold it was, her knowledge of the sea around her land in winter told her it was absolutely freezing. How would that water feel when it engulfed her whole body and Sanna dragged her down to her throne? If the goddess rejected her, would she drown or freeze first? Neither seemed very pleasant.

Then again, the prospect of a life without Aoyama was almost as bleak as an icy death. She knew her people would kill her if she did not go. If she faced death on all sides, she had to take the chance that promised the highest rate of success, infinitesimal though it be.

Ichigo smiled one last time, waved sadly to her husband, and—horrifyingly slowly—put one foot into the water, then the other.

* * *

She was dragged down.

Some supernatural current was yanking her from the surface, pulling her through the frigid water. Ichigo didn't dare open her eyes. She felt a burning sensation in her throat and lungs, begging her to breathe, but there was only water all around her, pushing on her, crushing her, pulling her down—down to Sanna's lair.

Ichigo wanted to scream, but she had no voice; she wanted someone to save her, but no one was there. They were all—oh, she didn't know how far away, and she was terrified to think of how many lengths she was under the surface now—up there somewhere, waiting, praying, watching.

Suddenly, she felt two hands on her arms. She jerked away without opening her eyes, writhing in terror. Ichigo was a good swimmer, but not this far down into the sea. No human could swim in Sanna's presence. They all… drowned. Except for the brides who had been accepted—but none of them could speak of their experiences, lest Sanna become vengeful and kill them.

Ichigo heard the same female whisper in her ear, only now, it was a much louder voice, beautiful and majestic, enigmatic and terrifying. It asked her to open her eyes. Frightened, she obeyed. And there before her, supernatural and dreamlike, was the great goddess Sanna.

Mystified, Ichigo could only stare at the strange creature floating before her. Sanna was beyond beautiful, with long, flowing green hair and vibrant eyes. She wore a jeweled green top on her human upper half and long garlands of flowers that resembled water lilies on her fish tail. Two white ribbon-like antennae sprang from her forehead. A diadem twinkled on her forehead; there was a pink heart-shaped mark on her chest. Her hands were petite and graceful, covered with small yellow rings. A glow resembling Ichigo's pendant emanated from her chest, near her heart.

"They have sent you, too?" Sanna asked.

"Y-Yes," Ichigo said, surprised to find she could now speak and breathe. "My people have sent me, their newest bride, with their prayers to you…"

"May I ask your name?"

"Ichigo."

"Ichigo," Sanna said, pausing to listen to the sound of the name. "How pretty. Before you tell me your people's requests… I have one for you. Will you listen to my story? It has been a long time since I was able to talk to someone who does not know me yet.."

Ichigo did not know how to respond; how could she react to a request from a goddess?

"My name was Lettuce," Sanna said. "I would rather be called that, if you please. When I was your age, I married a man—his name was Pie. The people of my village said he was not human. They hated me for loving him… but I married him anyway. One night, not long after I married Pie, my father took me out on the sea in one of his nice boats. Then, he began to attack me. He was so angry I had married a man he and everyone else saw as an inhuman monster. He started to strike me with an axe, knocking me off the side of the boat and chopping off my fingers until I fell into the sea." She held up her left hand, which had three bloody stumps instead of fingers. "Ever since, I've been the goddess of the sea who controls the marine animals. Your people pray to me for food. _They _decided to send their brides to me, in the hopes that I will hear their prayers. Instead, I warn them to be good and happy, so they don't become like me."

Ichigo nodded, wanting to comfort Lettuce. The divine image years of legends had ascribed to her was quickly fading, revealing a gentle young girl who had been attacked because she loved. The pendant around Ichigo's neck began to glow, pulling her toward Lettuce, whose pendant was also shining.

"You have the Myuu Aqua," she said. "I've been hoping to find someone like you. There is another man, Ryou Shirogane, who lives here in the sea with me. He wants to gather people like us, who have the Myuu Aqua, to stay here together. We're special, you see. We have the divine in us, the heroines of our legends. They live within you and me and those like us. That is why you are here. We want to keep you here with us."

"That's awfully lovely, but I have to return to my husband," Ichigo said. "I have given you our prayers for food. I will learn from your story, I promise!"

"That is not enough," Lettuce said. "Remain with me, please. You have a destiny to become a great immortal creature, like us, one who is kind to the people and preserves the ancient tales."

"No..."

The currents swirled around Ichigo, pulling her down further into the water. The pendant snapped off its chain, embedding itself into Ichigo's skin, stopping her heart and pulsating in its place.

And then, her ties to the surface severed, Ichigo could do nothing more than wonder at all she had lost to become part of the cultural legends she had idolized. From then on, people would recount her story as the first bride of four chosen by Sanna to embody the divine legends—the lost girl, whose husband grieved for her and of whom friends spoke late into the night, while the waves of the sea glowed with the eerie luminescence of the mystical Myuu Aqua.


End file.
